


Bruised

by Jinmukang



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Blood, Bruises, M/M, Nosebleed, Sickfic, Whumptober 2020, internal bleeding, more tags and characters will be added as the story progresses, no.10, thrombocytopenia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinmukang/pseuds/Jinmukang
Summary: Unconsciously, he brought his free hand to his side, under his armpit and above his stomach, then ran his fingers over the scar placed there under his cotton tee-shirt.Please don't be related. Please oh please don't be related.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Everyone, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946413
Comments: 24
Kudos: 170
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Bruised

**Author's Note:**

  * For [batboycentral](https://archiveofourown.org/users/batboycentral/gifts).



> So, you might look at the word count of this prompt and think woah! Jin! You've managed to write a prompt thats less than 3k words! well, may i direct your attention to the "1/?"
> 
> Thats right. im gonna continue this one. this one, so far, is the only one i have plans to continue after whumptober is over.
> 
> Also, this fic im gifting to the amazing Maggie, who gave me the idea for the fic. im incredibly honored that she trusted me enough with this topic. a ton of research went into this fic, and my only hope is that ive managed to pull this off respectfully.
> 
> please keep in mind that im not a doctor, and ive never had a disease such as this one before. all my information comes from various websites on google. 
> 
> okay. on to the story!

The first time he noticed it, he didn't actually _notice_ it. Like, bruises were common in Tim's line of work. Sometimes, he'd wake up in the morning with enough purple splotches to almost look like he was trying out Cheetah cosplay. _Not_ remembering where a bruise came from was just as frequent. When you went out close to every night to fight common street crime you're going to get hit very often. So often, that really, it would be impossible to remember where you've gotten every single bruise, cut, and ache. 

Tim waking up this morning to see his legs had large, dark bruises polka-dotting his pale skin was nothing out of the ordinary. 

He just looked at them, shrugged and wondered if he got that bruise sparring with Kon or if it was from stumbling on one of his lands last night while swinging roof to roof. 

Then he continued with the rest of his day, not even thinking about them. They were just bruises, what was the point of wasting brain power thinking about them? 

The second time he noticed it, he still didn't actually connect the dots. The only difference this time was that there were bruises on his arms as well. 

"That looks painful," Bart pointed out, literally and figuratively as Tim made himself breakfast that morning. He had to practically dance out of the way from having the bruise on the outside of his bicep poked. 

"It's just a bruise," Tim said, retreating from the Tower's kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal clutched in his hands. "People get them all the time."

Bart hummed and followed Tim to the table with a spark in his eyes that Tim didn't like. He'd have dodging practice early today, he guessed. 

Bart sat down next to Tim, kicking his legs under the table. "I don't get bruises like that. It's big"

"Because you're superhuman with a heightened healing factor," Tim deadpanned before stuffing his mouth full of captain crunch. 

"Oh yeah, I forget that sometimes."

“How do you just forget you have superpowers?!”

The third time he noticed it was when he actually began to wonder about it. For the past three days, he'd been _covered_ in bruises. On his sides, limbs, even a persistent one on his cheek. And yes, he was used to being covered in bruises, but the bruises were starting to look strange, covered with little red dots that gave him the impression of acne hanging out right below the layers of his skin on his legs and arms. And it felt like he was getting bruised for _every_ little thing. Cassie playfully punched his arm a little while earlier and he soon found himself scowling in the mirror, poking the dark stain of skin. Cassie punched hard, sure, but she knew her strength. Even when she was roughhousing, she knew how to make it so no one got hurt. 

And then, there was the fact that he woke up this time with bruises once again, but he hadn't gone out the night before. He stayed in to hack into the mainframes of various potentially corrupt companies of Jump City and their neighboring city of San Francisco that they occasionally patrol from time to time. He didn't do _anything_ last night to warrant bruises. 

The third time he noticed it, he was more careful with it, because Tim _wasn't_ dumb. He wasn't oblivious to his own body. His spleen was missing for crying out loud! That could change things about his health and how he pursued both his everyday life and his _night_ life. Common illnesses could be deadly. His body just didn't function the way it used to. 

But now, it wasn't just the bruises. It was also the new episodes of lightheadedness and weakness that he just… couldn't explain. He slept. Not a full 8 or even 7 hours of sleep every night but he still _slept_ . He ate food. Good food, especially for dinner. Meats, vegetables, the whole shebang. It was impressive, actually, how well everyone at the Teen Titan's Tower ate, especially for being a bunch of, well, _teenagers_.

He shouldn't be that tired. Standing up shouldn't be a chore like it was beginning to become. 

And the others were noticing as well, which only served to worry Tim more about his own health. 

"Woah, you good?" Kon asked, grabbing Tim by the shoulders as he stumbled up from the couch and almost fell immediately backwards. 

Tim slapped his hands off, even though normally he always welcomed the company of Kon, but he was close to panicking. Something was wrong, and he was afraid to figure out what. "I'm fine," he replied, trying to keep a fearful snap out of his voice. Judging by the way Kon scowled, Tim wasn't to be believed. "I'm just… tired."

"Tired"?" Bart asked, zipping up from the couch and ending up right in front of Tim in the blink of an eye. Bart was scowling, looking up at Tim with narrowed eyes. "Tim Drake? Tired? I don't believe it."

"No, Tim's always tired," Cassie put in, her voice carefully level to the point Tim almost winced. "Tim admitting to being tired? Feels almost like sacrilege."

Bart nodded, like that was what he was thinking the entire time and Tim had to swallow down a deep sigh. He sniffed and stepped away from the others, folding his arms across his chest. "I think I'm just coming down with something." Oh no, Kon's frowning. Tim quickly continued, sniffing again. _Maybe_ . It's not a big deal. I'm just a little more tired than usual-" Tim sniffs once more as something wet begins to slide down the inside of his nostrils. Great. A runny nose? He reached the back of his hand up to his nose and wiped. "And feeling a little weak. But that's _it_. Just…"

All three of them were staring at him oddly now. He frowned.

"What?"

"Tim…" Cassie started, "your nose is bleeding."

"What?!"

Tim looked down at the hand he had used to wipe under his nose, and to his shock he saw a thin streak of red trailing down over his thumb joint, parallel to his pointer finger. Right next to one of his strange bruises.

He reached up to his nose, wiping once more. His eyes widened when his hand came away with more blood. He sniffed again, only this time he brought his hand back up to his nose and kept it there. "I'm gonna... um…" 

"Go," Kon said, "we'll talk after."

Tim nodded, knowing there was no way his friends would let him off the hook now that he admitted to not feeling the greatest. He quickly rushed past them—sniffing and sorely hoping no blood would drop down onto his shirt and stain it—and eventually found himself inside one of the many bathrooms built into the Tower. Using his free hand, he grabbed a tissue and painstakingly folded it up a few times. He leaned over the sink as he finally let the hand cupping his nose fall away, and instantaneously a few drops fell into the sinks porcelain. He swiftly pressed the tissue over his nose and turned on the water to wash his now blood streaked hand. The water ran crimson to pink and back to clear. He turned off the water and carefully closed the toilet seat lid to sit down on the shaggy purple cover. He kept the napkin pressed tightly over his nose and leaned back against the wall, breathing through his mouth and fighting the dizzy feeling settling in his brain and on his chest. 

He could taste blood in his mouth. He hoped it was because the blood was dripping the wrong way down into his throat and not because of alternate reasons. He could see the dots. He didn't want to connect them. Not yet. He just had to wait for his bleeding nose to stop. Then he could start sorting out the symptoms. 

Unconsciously, he brought his free hand to his side, under his armpit and above his stomach, then ran his fingers over the scar placed there under his cotton tee-shirt. 

Please don't be related. Please oh _please_ don't be related. 

He exhaled, swallowing blood, and dragged his hand away to pull out his phone. He ignored the Google app and instead began to distract himself by checking the notifications on every other app he owned. Tumblr, Discord, Instagram, all of them. Every so often, he'd pull the napkin away from his nose just to immediately put it back when blood attempted to drip down. Eventually, he ran out of apps to laze through and opened his Email, however he immediately gained a headache when he saw most of them belonged to Wayne Enterprises. 

After quickly changing the napkin for a new one once his fingertips began to feel wet, he opened the Play Store and downloaded the first mindless game he could tap on. 

He was in the middle of figuring out where the sevens could go in his solitaire game when a knock on the door caught his attention. He lowered his phone and turned towards the door. "Yeah?" He yelled, his voice nasally thanks to the tissue still squeezing his nostrils shut. 

"You good?" 

Kon's voice. He sounded concerned. 

"Um, yeah?"

A beat of silence. Then a clearing of a throat. "You're still bleeding?" 

Tim almost hummed, but that would shoot gore out of his nose. So he clicked his tongue instead. "Yeah. A- a little."

More silence. "Do… do noses usually bleed this long?" 

And not for the first time does Tim regret making friends with mostly superheroes who are, in fact, super. With their indestructible skin, healing factors, and amazing feats of strength, it was sometimes hard for them to comprehend how plain old humans with no abilities acted in certain situations. What plain old humans with no abilities needed to keep physically healthy. He loved his friends, no doubt about it, but questions like _do noses bleed for this long_ gets his head spinning with the realization that this was his life.

Tim tucked his phone away in his pocket. "Um, depends. Really." 

He should open the door. Talk to Kon face to face. He sounded genuinely hung up on Tim's health. Talking directly with each other should help calm Kon down at least. He put his hand on the counter next to him and used it to lift himself up. 

Once his butt left the toilet seat, he knew he had just made a mistake. The world swirled and his head suddenly began to _pound_. He wasn't sure if he blinked, or even blacked out, but he did know that one moment he was halfway to sitting and the next he was on the ground with his legs crumbled beneath him, blinking cobwebs from his dizzied brain as the door suddenly slammed open. 

And that was another thing about being a part of both a team and a friend group of supers. They sometimes underestimated how much a plain old human with no abilities could take. Though this time, Tim was pretty sure the worry on Connors face was for good reason. Those poor door hinges though… they’d need replacing...

There was a warm, copper tasting liquid dripping down over his lips and off his chin. During the confusion, his hand holding the napkin had ended up limp by his side, his body having forgotten to hold it over his nose while he blanked out and fell. At the back of his far away head, he knew that the amount of blood dripping from his nose, especially considering how long he's sat here with his fingers pinching it shut, was way more than what should be normal. 

It took a tremendous amount of energy to lift his eyes up to Kon, who at this point had ended up in front of Tim, kneeling with hands lifted and eyes wide. 

"Are you okay?" Kon was asking. His voice teetered the line of hysterics. 

Tim brought his hand up to his face and tried to wipe away the blood to open his mouth, but all he did was smear the liquid over his hands and face. His heart pounded as he leveled his gaze into Kon's eyes. He thought of the bruises, and rash like dots on his arms and legs. He thought of his spleen, of the lack of it. He thought about his compromised immune system. He thought about the dizzy spells. The weakness. He thought about how his nose should have stopped bleeding by now. 

"I think… I think I need a hospital.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! let me know what you thought in the comments please, i appreciate every single one and will do my best to answer as soon as im able. until november!


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